


Shattered Porcelain

by SolStudio



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Demon Shane Madej, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Partners in Crime, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:36:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolStudio/pseuds/SolStudio
Summary: “I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d recognize me. You humans are blind to these things, aren’t you?” He looked away in distaste.“Humans? What does that make you then? Some kind of god?” Ricky mocked.The man burst out laughing as if Ricky had just told him one of the funniest jokes he’d heard in a long time. “God? Hell no. The opposite, actually. I’m, what you humans like to call, a demon. A deal-maker, if you will.”Ricky, who had lessened the pressure upon the man’s throat while processing his strange claim, resumed pressing with as much force as before. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? A demon? Really? Just how stupid do you think I am?”“Stupid enough to kill a demon’s host body.”
Relationships: Ricky Goldsworth & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej
Comments: 5
Kudos: 78





	Shattered Porcelain

The street was dark and abandoned, not unusual for the late hour. The few lamp posts still functioning despite their age cast an ominous glow across the pavement, leaving anyone who might be out walking the streets at this hour with a sense of anxiety and unease. The clamor of a nearby bar could be heard briefly as a woman exited the bar, once again becoming muffled as the door swung shut behind her. 

The sound of the woman’s heels echoed as they clacked along the sidewalk, and she rustled through her belongings as she walked, seemingly looking for something inside her purse. She continued, engrossed in her search, as she passed one of the many unlit alleyways, and a dark figure slid out of the shadows, falling into step behind her, unnoticed. 

Slowly, but with purpose, the man behind her began to pick up his pace, shortening the distance between them until he was close enough that he could reach out his arm and be touching her shoulder if he so desired. For a couple seconds the man simply remained following at the established, unnaturally close distance, until without warning, the man moved strangely, as if grabbing something from under his coat. 

Underneath the dim light, a flash of silver could be seen in the man’s hand as he quickly dashed forward, taking the last few steps needed to close the distance between him and the woman. The beginnings of a scream echoed throughout the abandoned street before quickly being silenced as the woman’s body crumpled in on itself, gently being lowered to the ground, not with care as one would in aiding someone who has fainted, but instead in a way as to suggest the man doing so was attempting to make as little noise as possible.

Looking down, the man stared at the woman lying across the pavement, who, to his surprise, instead of displaying the usual terror he’d come to expect, and even enjoy, instead glared up at him in defiance.

“What?” He found himself unable to keep himself from puzzling at the meaning behind her anger.

“Who are you?” The woman’s voice was weak, but clear. Her hands were slowly clenching at her sides, nails scratching along the pavement.

The man ran his empty hand through his dark hair. “Why does it matter? You’re dying. You know that, right?”

Ignoring his words, the woman insisted. “What’s your name?” Her irritation seemingly increased the longer he refused to answer.

She seemed almost resigned to her death, and inexplicably had made no attempt to get help of any kind, but was still insistent on knowing who he was for some reason. Well, he supposed it wasn’t like she’d be able to tell anyone his identity anyways.

“Ricky. Goldsworth.” The man, now dubbed Ricky, squatted down and mockingly held out his hand in a cruel parody of a formal handshake. “It’s a pleasure.” He gave her a wicked grin.

She returned the grin, just as malicious. “You’ll pay for this, Goldsworth. I’ll see to it myself that your soul will never know peace.”

Ricky snorted, rising back up to his full height. “Sure. You try that.” He watched, waiting, as the woman maintained her sneer until the light finally faded from her eyes. “Thought so. Not that tough after all. In the end, you’re just another corpse like all the rest.” 

Glancing at his watch, he noticed the time and realized he’d have to dispose of the woman quickly as the morning commute would be starting in only a few hours. He scowled. The clean up was always his least favorite part.

* * *

Somewhere in the city, a young man was sleeping peacefully in his single bedroom apartment where he lived alone. The bedroom window had been propped open to let in a breeze from outside as to combat how warm the apartment had grown from the daytime summer heat. The bedroom floor had dirty clothes strewn across it, and the walls of the room were lined with picture frames. 

Looking at one of the pictures hanging on the wall, one could see the man and an older couple sharing a clear family resemblance with him, presumably the man’s parents. It was a candid shot, all three of them laughing while the man pointed at something just out of frame. It was clear from even a single glance the man and his parents were very close.

Further searching around the room revealed the man’s wallet lying atop his nightstand. The wallet had fallen open and inside a license printed with the name Shane A. Madej could be seen. One could assume this was the man’s name.

Deep in his slumber, the man known as Shane was oblivious to the dark shadow creeping in the open window and crawling over the window sill towards the bed. The shadow grew in size along the wall, stretching along the floor until reaching the bed where it stopped briefly. The shadow appeared almost to hesitate before it started to crawl inside the man’s mouth, hung open in sleep. Shane Madej slept on. 

* * *

Ricky awoke to the ringing of his 6:00am alarm, feeling a jolt of thrill as he silenced it and remembered all that had transpired last night. Since starting his killing streak about a year ago, he’d killed 4 people, which meant the woman last night was his fifth. He made a mental note to himself to be extra careful for the next few weeks. The authorities would most likely start to catch on that there was a serial killer in the area. Five murders in a few neighboring cities within one year? Yeah, they’d probably realize they were connected rather soon.

He didn’t have anything against any of his victims. He didn’t know any of them personally and didn’t know anything about them. The random nature of his victims helped to keep the police off his tail, thankfully. 

For most of his life, Ricky hadn’t acted on his ‘urges.’ While he’d always known that he had a tendency for the macabre, he hadn’t known how deep it ran until later on in life. He must have been fourteen years old when he heard the whispers for the first time. They’d shown up out of nowhere one day, whispering over his shoulder all the different, awful things he could do and murmuring promises of grandeur and power. He wasn’t dumb, he knew the voice had to be some auditory hallucination constructed by his mind, but he didn’t care. Sometimes, he theorized that the voice had always been there with him, just too quiet for him to hear.

At first it had scared him, but as he grew older, he found himself caring less and less. What had initially been a faint tingle in the back of his mind had grown into a full body itch. As he tried to ignore it, the itch under his skin continued to grow, spreading to each and every limb until it became unbearable. He’d given in for the first time about a year ago.

Now, he couldn’t stop. He’d uprooted his life, moved to a new area, and changed his identity so he’d be totally untraceable. He’d gotten a new, low profile job working as a barista to integrate himself into the community. As far as everyone knew, he was Ryan Bergara, the college dropout working a dead-end job. 

_ Speaking of said dead-end job- _

A glance at the clock showed he would be late for his job if he didn’t leave within the next fifteen minutes. He moved towards the closet to grab his clothes for the day. He’d have to start getting ready.

* * *

The day so far had been moving slowly. He couldn’t stand any of his coworkers, but to be fair, there weren’t many people he _ could _stand, so he supposed that it probably wasn’t personal. 

So far that morning he’d already had to deal with a very upset woman who kept insisting on her order not being made correctly. She’d come back up to the register three times to complain that her order was still wrong, despite them remaking it each time just as she described and doing so right under her watchful eye.

All Ricky wanted to do was wipe the condescending look she kept giving him off her face, perhaps even permanently. (_ Unfortunately _, his last kill was too recent for this to be a safe option.) When she finally left with her fourth drink, his coworker, a blond woman whose name might have started with a ‘K’ but just as easily could have started with an ‘A’, drew his attention.

“Ugh, finally. I thought she’d never leave and we’d be ‘fixing’ her coffee all day.” She emphasized the word ‘fixing’ with finger quotes before dropping them to cross her arms. “It was right the first time anyways.”

Internally, Ricky rolled his eyes. He couldn’t care less for small talk with his coworkers. Outwardly, he switched on his ‘Ryan’ persona, and faced- _ Kacy? Annie? Oh who cares _\- her.

“I know! I was just about to offer her a full refund and a free scone or something just to get her to leave.” He gave a laugh. He was about to ask if any of the others had seen her in the store before when the blonde coworker spun around back to her workstation and made an attempt at looking busy, just as the bell above the door rang. Knowing a customer was heading towards the register, he hoped that lady hadn’t returned to complain about her fourth drink. She’d finally left, but he wouldn’t put it past her to change her mind anyways. 

Ricky turned back to the register to face the incoming customer and found a tall, lanky man staring down, directly into his eyes. While outwardly appearing calm, Ricky could easily spot the anger and resentment behind his eyes. He was attempting to mask it, but Ricky saw right through it. After all, he was the best at it.

Uncertain as to the source of lanky dude’s anger- _ maybe a racist? _\- Ricky put on his friendly retail smile and slipped into the role of oblivious barista. “How can I help you today, sir?”

The man threw a quick glance to his chest, raising an eyebrow at the _ RYAN _ written across it. He smirked and leaned in, leaning his weight on one of his hands atop the counter

“Ryan, huh? That’s your name?” 

Ricky grit his teeth, but forced it into a smile. What was this man’s game? “Yes sir. My parents chose it and everything.”

“Could have fooled me. You don’t look like a Ryan at all.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?”

The man shrugged. “You could take it either way I suppose. All I’m saying is that the name doesn’t suit you. In fact, I’d say you look more like a…” He leaned in conspiratorially, grinning. “Ricky, if you ask me.” 

Ricky felt his stomach drop as icy terror flooded his body. He strained to keep up the act of oblivious employee. “Really? What makes you say that?”

“Drop the act Goldsworth. I know who you are.” The man’s voice was cold.

In one fluid motion, Ricky yanked off his apron and called out over his shoulder. “I’m taking my break now! I’ll be back in 10!” 

He ignored the shocked voices of the other employees, roughly grabbing the taller man’s arm and dragging him out the front of the store.

The doors slammed shut behind them with a bang as Ricky yanked the man behind the building, out of sight of the general public. He pulled a pocket knife from his jeans, pressing it up against the man’s throat.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” He pressed a bit harder into the man’s neck, just enough to draw a drop of blood. “_ Don’t _ make me ask twice.”

“I guess I shouldn’t assume you’d recognize me. You humans are blind to these things, aren’t you?” He looked away in distaste.

“Humans? What does that make you then? Some kind of god?” Ricky mocked.

The man burst out laughing as if Ricky had just told him one of the funniest jokes he’d heard in a long time. “God? Hell no. The opposite, actually. I’m, what you humans like to call, a demon. A deal-maker, if you will.”

Ricky, who had lessened the pressure upon the man’s throat while processing his strange claim, resumed pressing with as much force as before. “Are you trying to make a fool of me? A demon? Really? Just how stupid do you think I am?”

“Stupid enough to kill a demon’s host body.” The man raised his hand up, using a single finger to gently shift the knife away from his throat.

Ricky stared in shock as his arm was moved with seemingly no effort. He knew that he wasn’t weak by any means. Despite the man’s tall stature, he was lean without much muscle. There was no way he should be physically able to remove the knife from his throat when faced with Ricky’s sheer strength, but he’d done it like it was nothing.

“Surely you remember, don’t you? Last night I had just left the bar when you stabbed me from behind. Sure I may look a little different now, but I told you I’d find you, didn’t I? I believe my exact words back then were, ‘your soul will never know peace.’”

The knife clanged against the pavement as it slipped from Ricky’s hand. Ricky’s eyes were wide, mostly white. He took a step back, stricken. 

“How would you…. How could you possibly? There’s no way you’d know that!” Suddenly, the fire returned to Ricky’s eyes. “I know no one was there! I made sure of it!”

“Only the two of us. Believe me now?” 

Ricky considered everything that had transpired in the past few minutes. He knew for a fact that there hadn’t been anyone around when he’d killed that woman last night. This man knew his name, and the exact words that woman had said to him before she died. Not to mention, he’d demonstrated almost otherworldly strength earlier. If this man truly was a demon, as well as the woman from last night, Ricky would have to start talking his way out of this and fast. He clearly wasn’t happy about his untimely death.

“What’s your name?” Ricky questioned.

“You can call me Shane, I suppose. That’s this body’s name anyways.” ‘Shane’ was clearly indifferent as to what he was called.

“So last night, after I killed you, you just took another man’s body? While he was still alive? Is he still in there trying to get you out?” Ricky felt a morbid curiosity burning through him.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but demons can’t last long on the mortal plane without a host body. Even a few minutes without one is enough to completely destroy weaker demons. I’d been gathering quite a bit of power before you came along and ruined it all for me. I was out of a body for maybe three minutes, and I almost had to go back to Hell so I wouldn’t be completely destroyed, and fuck knows I’m not doing that. I couldn’t afford to be picky. Also, don’t act as if you have the moral high ground in this situation. You were the one who murdered an, as far as you could tell, innocent woman last night. If you asked me, I’d say it wasn’t your first kill either.”

“Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was.” Ricky didn’t want to give up any more information than he had to.

“Unfortunately for you, just because you got away with those other murders doesn’t mean you’ll get away with this one. I lost a lot of power while I was out of a host body. While just one soul won’t be enough to regain all the power I lost, I think taking your soul in exchange would be the only rational way to make it up to me.”

Ricky went wide-eyed once again. 

“So, Mr. Goldsworth, what say you in your defense?”

Ricky quickly envisioned hundreds of scenarios in his head of ways that this conversation could end with him six feet underground. He’d have to say something smart and say it fast if he wanted to make it out of the encounter alive. 

“You said you were gaining strength before I killed you, or your host, that is. How were you doing that?” 

For a moment, Shane appeared surprised by the question, but quickly masked it. “The same way all demons do, devouring souls. Everytime someone dies, their soul is either meant to pass on to Heaven or Hell; however, for an unlucky few, a demon may be nearby when they pass away. If you can get to their soul before it makes it over to the other side, you can take it for yourself to consume.”

Shane paused before continuing bitterly. “The real trick is being in the right place at the right time. Those damned angels are always guarding any place with a high mortality rate. Of course God lets them walk the mortal plane with no troubles whatsoever, but us demons need a host to even survive. They make their favoritism abundantly clear.”

Like magic, the perfect idea popped into Ricky’s head. “You said you’re a deal-maker, right? How about we make a deal then?”

A glint shown in Shane’s eye and Ricky knew he’d caught the demon’s attention. 

“What kind of deal are we talking about here?” Shane was visibly intrigued.

“You’re low on power and need more souls to increase it. The only way to get souls is from the recently deceased. I just so happen to kill people. If you choose to let me live, I’ll keep killing, and I’ll let you take the souls of everyone I kill. I’m not using them for anything so it’s a win-win scenario.”

As Ricky spoke, Shane’s eyes drifted down before locking in on one of Ricky’s hands. He gave a devilish grin and snatched the man’s wrist, dragging it up to his face to get a closer look. 

_ Just as he thought. _

He snorted in amusement, dropping the arm from his grasp, where it fell heavily back down to Ricky’s side. “There’s dried blood underneath your fingernails. Sloppy.”

Ricky shook out his arm as if trying to shake off something unsavory, aiming a nasty glare towards the offending man.

“I am not _ sloppy. _” He emphasized the word, injecting as much ire as he could into it to show his clear disdain. 

“Uh huh.” Shane’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “And I suppose you were just saving that blood for later, right?” 

With nothing clever to say in response, Ricky just sneered. 

“If you can’t even clean up rudimentary evidence like this, how can I trust that you won’t be caught within the month, and all of this will be for naught?”

Ricky felt the last tendrils of hope slip through his fingers. If Shane chose to kill him, there wouldn’t be anything he could do to escape that fate. However, he wouldn’t go down without a fight. He was Ricky Goldsworth, damnit! Just as he got ready to draw back the knife and make a lunge at the demon, he was stopped by Shane continuing on.

“Although, I suppose that would be why I’d be there. With me on your side you’d be truly unstoppable.” Shane held out his hand in the same manner as Ricky had to him the night prior. “So Goldsworth, do we have a deal?”

Ricky slipped the knife back into his pocket and took Shane’s hand. “Yes, we do.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's right, it's the beginning of my new series! I'll be working on this while I finish up writing the last two parts of my other series. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter, and thanks for reading! 
> 
> Find me on tumblr [here!](https://solstudio.tumblr.com/)


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